


Backstory - Zedrys

by McBeard_Creative



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Backstory, Dungeons & Dragons Campaign, Dungeons & Dragons Character Backstory, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-23 16:57:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21084725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McBeard_Creative/pseuds/McBeard_Creative
Summary: Backstory writeup for the character of Zedrys, drow magus of Oprela and worshiper of none.





	Backstory - Zedrys

Zedrys has no family name. This is for different reasons depending on who you might ask. If you were to ask his people (any that actually cared to remember him) they would tell you that it was stripped from his when he disgraced himself and fled home. If you were to ask Zedrys when he was in a good mood, he would likely spit on the ground and tell you he left it down in Karathis with the rest of his pisshole society. If you were to ask him on a bad day, you may end up with a knife to your throat; his feelings on other drow are… complicated.

Zedrys was born to parents in a small drow city whose chief export to the nearby metropolis of Ilyn Nasad was slaves. His father was a mewling coward and who talked boastfully until he stepped in the door to his own home and then kowtowed to his wife better than any thrall. His mother was, to use some surface terminology that he’s come to enjoy, an aboslute fucking cunt. To be sure her behavior was entirely in line with what was expected of her, enough so that she’d managed to put herself in charge of the little city where they lived. The closest thing she’d ever shown to motherly affection was reserved for his sisters, as she had absolutely zero use for males as anything other than a means to an end. This again was fairly in line with the expectations of their society, but it naturally brewed a certain resentment in him. She was aware of her husband’s blustering, boasting, and occasional sleeping around outside the home and allowed him continue these in order to later extract information about any who might pose a threat to her. 

Zedrys’ mother was the sort who preferred to let her enemies be until right before their moment of triumph, and then crush them brutally. He had seen this on one occasion when another prominent female in the town had rallied support and tried to take the mantle of leadership. She had held aloft her child, proof that she had taken the mate of the town’s mayor and created a daughter with him. This was an insult, and meant as a challenge to her power. His mother had arranged for ilithids to eat the child in front of the entire city, and then sold the usurper and all who had supported her claim to the monstrosities as livestock. The sale was followed by a dispatch Ilyn Nasad for more townsfolk.

One of the only ways men were significantly valued in his society were as soldiers, and especially since it got him out of his family home, Zedrys trained extensively with as many other men as he could find. He was tall even by drow standards and not terribly strong but light on his feet, and this informed his fighting style. He was never very good with words, but he was possessed of a sharp mind and when he wasn’t training his martial talents he was working on mastering spellwork to be later integrated into his swordplay. He even spent time with the local smiths, who appreciated the help as much as he appreciated literally any reason to not be home. He took quickly to weaponsmithing, armorsmithing, even alchemy, although certain techniques still elude him. 

When he was 40 years old, his mother declared that she was sick of him living in and not contributing anything to the town (an assessment the local soldiers and smiths would disagree with, but nobody was going to argue with her). She sent him with a small raiding party to go capture slaves from a relatively nearby lycanthrope encampment. The amount of effort she expended to veil the fact that this was merely a way to dispose of people she didn’t want around anymore was so minimal that it had to be the final insult. He took the viridium scimitar he’d been working on, took the silver kukri she was willing to part with in the name of “ensuring the mission’s success”, and left with his raiding party. Two days into their three day journey, he announced his plans to leave the underdark, and knowing the safety in numbers if nothing else, he offered his companions the chance to come along with him. Two tried to kill him on the spot, and their corpses were left for the scavengers. Two ran while he killed the first pair, and they weren’t worth the effort to chase. Three more stood by and watched the brief fight. When it was over they all set off towards the surface world.

Of his travelling companions only one made it to the sunlight. One was slain when they encountered a particularly bold duergar raiding party, and another fell into some toxic flora and died gasping for air. The companion who did make it to the surface was killed almost immediately upon emergence into the light. They had stepped out from a cave into an apparent orc camp - a small group, perhaps hunters. With his eyes unable to adjust quickly enough to the light the poor bastard had been rapidly slain, however he provided an appreciated distraction. Zedrys had never been much good at seeing in the dark, something that wasn’t a major hindrance in Karathis due to an abundance of bioluminescent flora, but had become very fucking apparent as they moved through Taranost and its many, many pitch black caves. As it turned out, the upside of this was that he was able to see in bright sunlight perfectly fine, something he marvelled at as his blade sliced through orc after orc.. When he was finished he helped himself to their food, their gold, and whatever gear he felt had the best intersection between being lightweight and having a high resale value.

He would learn that he’d emerged in a country called Oprela. It was a harsh place, especially for those who weren’t human (this species seemed to be the dominant one in this part of the surface world, whereas they were a curiosity at best where he grew up). He eventually understood that his appearance garnered him a noteworthy portion of fearful respect along with the more standard racism. Zedrys came to decide that this place wasn’t so bad compared to home. There was at least room for individuals to rise up above their station without being immediately killed. Oh someone might try to knock them down, but being molded in a society where you’re always watching your back for the next knife made most of these attempts appear relatively pathetic. In addition, his martial and arcane prowess garnered a measure of genuine respect, and he quickly found that there were people who would pay for his employment of them on their behalf.

In the century or so since he emerged, Zedrys has killed people, protected people, guarded mines, collected payments and bounties, hunted dangerous animals, and whatever else brings in gold. He’s never placed too much value on acquiring raw wealth. He likes nice things, he continues to tinker with crafting and alchemy, and he likes to gamble and sometimes whore. He’ll do a job when he needs more money for one of those pursuits, or occasionally to buy something a little more valuable for himself (like a few very expensive finishing touches on his sword). He’s garnered himself a small local reputation as brutal but reliable, and honorable nearly to fault - at least when you’re paying for him. He is varying parts proud and, if not particularly ashamed, at least casually disgusted towards his heritage and homeland. He doesn’t object to cruelty on principle, but to engage in it purely for its own sake feels distasteful. At 146 years old now, his opinions on drow still shift and change on a daily basis, and at times he wonders if the pride he feels towards his parentage is simply a pushback to the humanocentrism of the region he operates in. Zedrys figures that at some point he’ll leave Oprela and test that assertion. Assuming he doesn’t get killed on a job or by some idiot backwater hick with far more capability or luck than he deserves, he should have a long life in which to explore.


End file.
